I lean against the doorjamb and look at him through the soft shimmer of the lights he didn’t turn out in the sitting room. A nasty scar, puckered and red, begins at his temple, maybe beyond hidden by his thick black hair, and slashes his eyebrow in two, slithers over his eye, across his cheek, through the right corner of his mouth, and stops at his chin. The surgeon stitched his lips together, but the skin doesn’t look quite right. I’d read the accident crushed the right side of his body. He’d broken his arm, fractured several ribs, needed a right hip replacement, and broken his leg in two different places. He’d been in the hospital for almost six months.
He stands and lets me stare. He must be used to it by now because despite the scar, he’s still a very handsome man, and once he’s finished nursing his wounds, he won’t be single for long. One of the questions I’d thought of while driving to Old Harbor was why his wife left him. It couldn’t have been because of his injuries. Now, after having spoken to him, I don’t want to ask him that. It’s too personal, and why she served him divorce papers isn’t any of my business. The whole interview is starting to give me a bad feeling.
Rick reminds me of Talia, fragile, handle with care.
“Thank you. For letting me stay with you,” I say, squeezing his arm.
He jerks away. “You can help yourself to what I have in the kitchen. I get regular grocery deliveries, but Pete won’t be able to drive up until the snow’s done and the roads are clear. What we have is what we have until then. Just so you know.”
“As long as you have coffee, I’ll be okay.”
“I’ll never run out of coffee. Goodnight, Devyn.”
“Goodnight, Rick.” I step into the room and flip the switch that turns on the small lamp sitting on the bedside table near the bed. “It is Rick, isn’t it?”
“That or asshole. It depends on who you’re talking to.”
With that, he shuffles down the hall, and I hear the door to the stairs open and close.
The first thing I do is trot back downstairs. Rick isn’t anywhere, and I find my phone in the jacket I hung up in the foyer. The coffeepot is still on, my mug still on the table, the bottle of Glenlivet near the sink. I’m not comfortable enough to make myself at home and help myself to more coffee, but I find a small comfort in the aroma and the warm kitchen, and I sit on a bench at the table and call my sister.
“Hey,” I say when she picks up. “How are you doing?”
She sighs, and her exhaustion seeps through the phone line. It’s almost midnight, but she waited up to hear from me. “Fine. Tired. Classes tomorrow as usual, group therapy after that, then the store called and said I could work a couple of hours if I wanted to. I’m not sure.”
We can always use the money if Talia works extra hours, but her therapy sessions are hard on her, and it’s not uncommon for her to sleep all afternoon after one of them. “Do what you’re comfortable with.”
“Thanks. Have you met him? Is he as scary as he looks?”
“I met him. It’s blizzarding, and if it moves that way, be careful. I’m stuck for a little bit. He’s letting me stay because the roads are bad. I might be here for a few days.”
“Do you think he’ll talk to you?” She yawns, and I yawn, too.
“I really don’t know. He already said no, but maybe I can wear him down. I better let you get some sleep. Don’t skip class.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Goodnight. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
Reluctantly, I disconnect.
“Boyfriend?”
Rick’s leaning against the archway that opens into the living room, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.
I could say yes, I could say no. It doesn’t make a difference if he thinks I’m attached or not. I won’t be here long enough for it to matter.
He blows out a breath when I don’t confirm or deny. “Right. I went up to your room to tell you if you want to shower in the morning, there are towels in the cupboard in the bathroom.”
“Thanks.”
He turns and walks through the living room into another room and shuts the door.
I help myself to another cup of the still-warm coffee after all, adding another splash of whiskey. If we’re rationing, I might as well not waste what we have.
I skip brushing my teeth to avoid bumping into him again, and sipping my coffee, check out his books. I find a thriller I haven’t read and halfway through the first chapter, I fall asleep on the couch.
When I wake up, I’m covered with a thick blanket, and a bookmark saves my place.